


Start Of A Tradition

by WishingOnWhishaw



Category: Easy Allies RPF, Gametrailers RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gender Dysphoria, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Prompt Fill, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 12:41:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11185347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WishingOnWhishaw/pseuds/WishingOnWhishaw
Summary: It's the weekend: Brad has homework he should be doing, and Huber has games he could be playing. But the hot weather and a bad mood means neither of those things are actually happening. Until Huber comes up with what he sees as the perfect solution to both of their problems.written for a fic dialogue meme with the prompt: “You’re the only one I trust to do this.”





	Start Of A Tradition

**Author's Note:**

> Things I learned whilst uploading this: there is not enough content on AO3 for these nerds. This little fic is one step to fixing this problem! Now featuring trans headcanons, because it's pride month and, lets be real, you can never have too many trans headcanons.
> 
> Keeping this short and sweet as I get back into writing. Hope you enjoy!

The sound of the AC running and Brad’s pencil scratching on paper is interrupted once again by a sigh from Huber. Brad looks up finally, unable to ignore him any longer. What he sees is Huber sprawled on the couch, sulking. It’s a Saturday afternoon and it’s hot, hotter than usual, even for California. Huber hates it. He should be used to it by now, but he’s not, and it’s making him miserable.  
  
“Dude, what’s up with you today?” Brad asks. It’s not like Huber to be this grumpy, he’s normally loud and excited, a constant distraction to Brad who’s trying to get his homework finished.  
  
“Everything is wrong,” Huber complains. It sounds vague and melodramatic, but that’s how he feels. His skin, damp with sweat, is crawling; his hair is everywhere, in his face and on his neck; and despite his baggy, oversized T-shirt, he feels like he’s being smothered.  
  
“Like what?” Asks Brad. He puts his pencil down, twists his body to face Huber. Brad knows he won’t get any work done until they figure out whatever’s going on here.  
  
“Just everything,” is all Huber offers in explanation. “My whole body is gross.” Brad gives a sad, knowing smile, realising it’s one of _those_ days.  
  
“You’re not gross, Huber. You’re handsome as hell, dude.” Huber scoffs.  
  
“You’re just saying that to cheer me up,” he huffs before rolling over and pressing his face into a cushion. His loose hair falls in front of his face, hiding it from view. Brad just rolls his eyes, gets on his knees and shifts closer to the couch. He tucks some of Huber’s hair behind his ear so he can see him again.  
  
“Hey, c’mon man. You know that’s not true. You’re a handsome guy,” Brad insists. He knows he can’t talk Huber out of his dysphoria, but he at least wants to help.

Huber turns to him and he’s actually pouting, his eyes sad and his bottom lip stuck out a little bit. Brad’s hand is still on his head, and he strokes through Huber’s hair, offers a small smile. He hates seeing Huber like this.  
  
“For real?” Huber sniffles. He’s trying not to get emotional, not to let himself cry, but he feels terrible right now.  
  
“Yeah, Mike, of course! Would you be my boyfriend if I _didn’t_ think you were handsome?” He teases.  
  
“I think I’ve got a decent personality,” Huber tries to joke back, forces a smile. He gives up on that quickly though, lets his face fall again. “Thanks, Brad,” he says sincerely. His eyes are wet and he sounds like he’s about to burst into tears and Brad just wishes he could do something, wishes he could get Huber to see himself the same way Brad sees him.  
  
“Sure thing, babe,” Brad says, pushes Huber’s hair back to kiss his forehead. It gets Huber to crack a genuine smile, at least. “You wanna play some games or something? Take your mind off it?”  
  
“Nah,” sighs Huber. “I don’t feel like it. Maybe later?” Brad nods, scratches gently at Huber’s scalp as he strokes his head.  
“Yeah, just tell me when you’re ready, dude,” Brad tells him. He gives Huber a smile and one more kiss before pulling away and going back to his homework.  
  
They’re both quiet for a while, back to the rustling of paper and the sound of Brad’s pencil every now and then. Huber feels like he can breathe a little easier, still shifts around and feels awkward, but he found some relief in Brad’s words. He finally gets comfortable laying on his side, his head next to Brad, who’s sat on the floor with his back against the couch. There are pictures and magazines all around him, with little pencil marks and words scribbled on them. Huber finds a welcome distraction in watching him work, and then an idea hits him.  
  
“Hey, Brad?” Huber says, leaning over his shoulder, watching Brad as he makes note of face shapes.  
  
“Yeah?” Brad replies without looking up.  
  
“Will you cut my hair for me?”  
  
“Sure, dude, when I’ve got some more experience, I’ll cut your hair.”  
  
“No, I mean like, right now,” Huber says. Brad looks up at him with wide eyes.  
  
“Are you crazy?” He asks. “I don’t have anywhere near enough practice, man.”  
  
“That’s okay, I don’t want like a complicated style or anything!” Huber assures him. “You can just shave it all off if that’s the most you can do. I’m just sick of it being all long and annoying.”  
  
“Huber, I really don’t think I should, man,” Brad tries to reason with him. He wants to help, of course he does, but this is a bit extreme. “I’ve only been doing this a couple of weeks, dude, I’m really not an expert. You should go to a professional, get it done nice. Ask someone who really knows what they’re doing.”  
  
“You’re the only one I trust to do this,” Huber pleads. Brad gives him a flat stare, eyebrows raised, silently asking ‘ _are you serious?_ ’. Huber just grins back, with all the trust and excitement of a child. It makes Brad let out a small sigh, knows that Huber is being ridiculous—there are people actually qualified to cut hair, and they’re much more trustworthy than him—but there’s no way Brad’s going to be able to talk him out of it now.  
  
“Alright, fine,” Brad concedes with a roll of his eyes. “There’s no need to be so dramatic.” Huber beams back at him, thrilled that he got Brad to agree to this. “Go sit in the kitchen, I’ll get my stuff.”  
  
“You’re the best, Brad!” Huber exclaims. He leans forward and presses a kiss to Brad’s lips as a thanks before getting up and dashing off to the kitchen with more enthusiasm than Brad’s seen from him all day. Brad smiles to himself as he watches him go, glad that he can do something to help his boyfriend out.

 

**Author's Note:**

> this prompt came via [my tumblr](http://jollyhuber.tumblr.com)! check out my blog, send me other prompts, or just come and talk to me there!


End file.
